Unwelcome Visitors
by Zivacentric
Summary: Established Zibbs. Series of one-shots along the theme of "unwelcome visitors" who spark heart-felt conversations between Z & G. Spoilers S7x14, 15, 16: "Masquerade"/that lawyer, "Jack Knifed"/Damon, "Mother's Day"/Joann . Revelations universe.
1. The Lawyer

Established Zibbs. Spoilers for "Masquerade" (7x14).

A/N: This started as a one-shot response to that stomach-turning almost-kiss between Gibbs and the lawyer, but has morphed into what (I think) will be a series of basically one-shots along the theme of _Unwelcome Visitors_. The chapters will likely be tied to actual episodes. A second chapter is already in the works for another visitor. In this little world, Ziva & Gibbs are a couple, though the rest of the team is not in on that. Enjoy!

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Gibbs walked into his darkened house after a long day. He started to head straight upstairs to change into something more comfortable and get rid of the damn sling for a while. Suddenly he stopped, sensing someone else in the house.

He put his hand on his holster and turned toward the living room. He stilled as M. Allison Hart got up from his couch and walked slowly toward him in the dark.

"What – am I the only one who needs a warrant?"

She stopped close to him, crowding his space intentionally. If she was looking for him to back down, he didn't.

"You had no right to use my client as bait," she accused.

"He was lying to me – and I had a murder to solve."

"That doesn't give you the right to go around stepping on people's toes and doing whatever the hell you want."

"I'm just doing my job," Gibbs said, the softness of his voice at odds with the hardness in his eyes. "But you keep gettin' in my way."

Hart stared at him for a long moment, the silence speaking loudly. Slowly her gaze focused on his mouth. She started to close the gap between their mouths when the front door opened.

"Sorry I am late," Ziva called out. "I stopped to get coffee as I noticed this morning we are running low." She could see Gibbs' back as her footsteps carried her further into the house.

She stopped dead in the doorway to the living room, belatedly realizing they had company. Her eyes narrowed as she recognized the visitor – and noted her close proximity to Gibbs. That – that – _lawyer - _actually had her hand on Jethro's chest and looked as though she were about to kiss him. And he didn't seem to be exactly fighting her off.

"If you had told me we were having a rat problem, Jethro, I would have purchased poison, as well. Perhaps I should just get one of my guns."

Gibbs gave his trademark smirk. "Don't think we'll need that. The counselor was just leaving."

Hart gave him a look that said "Oh, really?" Gibbs just stared at her steadily, his gaze unreadable.

No one could say that M. Allison Hart wasn't smart enough to figure out when a timely retreat was the best option, so she headed for the door with a slow, sexy walk. With her hand on the knob, she turned back to Gibbs and said, "I'm sure your superiors would love to know that you're shacking up with one of your team members."

"Out," Gibbs instructed, gesturing toward the door with his head. She left, but not before throwing a triumphant look at them both.

Without looking at Jethro, Ziva went to the kitchen to put the coffee away. She hung her backpack on a kitchen chair as she went by and put the coffee in the cupboard. He found her with her arms braced against the kitchen counter, head down, her back to him. Her body language spoke volumes.

He walked up behind her. "Hey." He put a hand on her shoulder, thankful when she didn't pull away.

"She wants you," Ziva said in a flat voice.

"It's not mutual," he stated firmly.

"Maybe it should be." Her words hung in the air.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked forcefully.

"It means that she intends to cause trouble for us – for you – now that she knows," Ziva said quietly. After a moment, she continued. "And maybe you would rather replace us with something…easier."

He turned her toward him and raised her gaze to his with a finger under her chin. "First of all, where did you get the idea that you are replaceable?"

She shrugged and looked away.

"Look at me, Ziver."

She did so, reluctantly, knowing that he would be able to read the vulnerability in her eyes.

He waited.

"You did not seem to mind that she was about to kiss you."

It was his turn to shrug. "Wanted to see how far she'd go."

Ziva looked at him in disbelief, her left brow raised nearly to her hairline.

"Not _that_ far," he denied, with a look that bordered on a glare. "I love you, and I don't want anyone but you – even when it's not easy."

It was hard on both of them, keeping their relationship from the team. It had seemed like the right decision; however, now and then the secrecy undermined Ziva's certainty.

She searched his gaze for a long moment and found only truth there. She closed her eyes to hide her relief and finally relaxed against him, releasing a deep sigh. Her left hand slid up to wrap around his neck, while her right arm crept around his waist. Ziva buried her nose in his neck, breathing in that scent that was uniquely Jethro's.

"You are sure?" she asked in a voice so soft he could barely hear her, hating that, in that moment, she needed to ask.

"I'm sure," he said in a voice that left no room for doubt. He wrapped his arm around her and dropped a kiss to her hair. "And, by the way, she knew about us before she walked in the door."

Ziva pulled back far enough to look at him in surprise. "How do you know? And why did you let her in anyway?"

"Didn't – she was sittin' on the couch when I walked in. And I know because she's dropped enough comments to tell me she's had the whole team under surveillance. There's no way she didn't know you live here."

His left hand cupped her jaw, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. "She came here to cause trouble between us. Don't give her the satisfaction."

She thought back over what she'd seen and realized he was right. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to look him in the eye. "I am s- "

He cut her off with a shake of his head. "Don't apologize." A grin ghosted across his mouth. "Unless it's for being ready to throw me to the rat," he teased, cocking up his right eyebrow.

"I did not mean that," she acknowledged with a rueful smile, shaking her head. "I do not want you going anywhere." She rested her head back against his shoulder.

Suddenly Ziva raised her head and looked at him with a pensive expression. "Jethro, I do not like her having something to hold over us. What if she goes to Vance? Or higher?"

"Then we'll deal with it. She won't anytime soon, though."

She looked at him quizzically.

"What good's a bargaining chip if you use it?" he pointed out.

Realization dawned in her eyes. "You are a smart, smart man," Ziva said, moving to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Smart enough to catch you," he teased, making her chuckle.

They held each other for a long moment, just settling.

"Ready for bed?" she asked. "Or are you hungry?"

"Both," he smirked with a sexy glint in his eye.

She grinned. "Race you." She took off like a shot. He caught her just as she reached the stairs. Jethro bent and put her over his left shoulder, despite the sling he still wore on his right. Ziva's shriek of surprise sounded through the house as he carried her upstairs with his arm across the back of her knees and her head hanging down his back. The impact of her protests was lost in her laughter, making Jethro grin.

They were too wrapped up in each other to notice a certain lawyer who sat outside in the darkness watching their house, plotting.


	2. Damon

Established Zibbs. Spoilers for "Jack-Knife" (Season 7x15)

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McGee walked into the house behind Gibbs after giving him a ride home. Gibbs' right arm was still in the sling after his run-in with a suspect's car, leaving him unable to drive himself. Gibbs was tired and his shoulder hurt, making him grumpier than usual.

McGee wandered into the kitchen, asking if Gibbs needed something to eat before he left. Jethro said no, knowing Ziva would take care of that when she got home – which would not be until McGee left. McGee looked in the refrigerator anyway, commenting that there was nothing in there but fish food. He left after another few minutes, saying he'd be by in the morning to pick up his boss. As soon as he left, Gibbs pulled out his gun and aimed it toward the kitchen.

"I know the fish didn't eat a damn T-bone," he said. He knew the steak had been in there, as he and Ziva had been planning to have that for dinner.

Slowly, Damon Werth came into view with his hands showing. "I'll pay you back, Agent Gibbs."

"What're you doin' here?" Gibbs demanded without lowering his gun.

"I need your help, and I didn't want anyone to see us talking."

"You're paranoid. Again." Great. The last thing Gibbs needed tonight was Werth in another steroid-induced psychotic episode.

"No, I'm clean – I'm off the juice," he swore. Damon looked Jethro in the eye. "One of my buddies from the Corp, Heatherton, is dead in an alley and I know who's behind it. Now they're after me."

Gibbs slowly lowered the gun, though kept it in his hand at the ready. "Who?"

"Guy named Szwed."

"Why? What happened?"

"I don't know."

Suddenly, Gibbs' front door opened, then closed. There was the sound of the lock being turned and of something being hung on the coat rack near the door.

"I'm h –" Ziva stopped in the doorway into the living room. " – here." Gibbs knew she'd been about to call out that she was home, as she always did, but stopped herself when she sensed something was off.

Her gaze took in Gibbs on the couch with his gun still out and she quickly looked toward the other presence in the house. "Damon?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice and the furrowing of her brow.

"Hey, Ziva," he answered.

She brought her attention back to Gibbs. "What is going on?" she asked him.

Gibbs never took his eyes off Werth, but answered her question. "He says there's a dead Marine in an alley, friend of his. But he's short on the details."

Ziva looked at them both for a moment, then addressed Gibbs. "We could check it out, yes?"

Gibbs sighed and holstered his gun. "Yeah, we'll check it out."

Damon gave Ziva a smile that was friendly, yet hinted at closeness between them. "Glad you stopped by, Ziva. You're looking good. Working late? I figured you'd be home by now."

"She is home," Gibbs barked, giving the young former Marine the patented Gibbs' glare.

Werth's eyes widened and he looked from Ziva to Gibbs and back again. "Ziva?" he asked weakly, looking blindsided.

Ziva walked over to stand next to Gibbs. "He is right, Damon. I am home."

Werth's eyebrows came together in confusion. "But -"

Ziva interrupted him. "We have not said anything to the rest of the team yet, and I would consider it a favor if you did not either."

"Ziva – " Gibbs warned, not wanting her to be in the other man's debt.

She gave his arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "Damon?"

He nodded. "All right." But his eyes still looked a little troubled. Ziva made a mental note to further examine that at the first opportunity, but said nothing more for now. After all, they had a possible crime to investigate. And she had a disgruntled lover to soothe.

Her relief showed in her small smile. "Thank you. Now, it seems we have an alley to check out, yes?" She tossed her keys to Werth. "Damon, would you give us a minute first? We will meet you in the car; it is in the garage. The back seat is small, but it will have to do."

Damon looked a little unsure, but headed out. Gibbs walked into the kitchen and thought abut making coffee – or pouring a shot of bourbon.

Ziva was silent as she padded up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. He was a little stiff under her hug. She rested her cheek against his shoulder blade. "One person in this room loves you more than you could possibly know and the other is unnecessarily jealous. Care to guess which one you are?" she teased lightly.

Gibbs held out a moment longer, then huffed out a rueful breath with a slight shake of his head. He turned around and pulled her close with his left arm, burying his face in her hair.

"He is a friend, Jethro. Nothing more."

"He wants more."

"I am not so sure." Ziva said thoughtfully, looking as though she was thinking of something. Then she shook her head, bringing her focus back to the present. "But, either way, he has respected the boundaries I have set around our friendship."

Gibbs mulled that over. "I suppose he makes a good sparring partner," he admitted grudgingly.

"He does," she nodded. She cupped his cheek in one hand and gave him a smile. "But you are still my favorite partner in all things," she murmured, pulling him down for a kiss.

After they had pulled back, Ziva observed, "You let the cat out of the hat."

"Bag." She looked at him in confusion. "It's let the cat out of the bag."

"Oh," she shrugged, as if it were no matter. "Either way, someone else knows now."

He cupped her face in his hand. "Good."

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "So, you meant to tell him?"

"Yes." Short pause. "No." Sigh. "I wanted him to know that you're taken. Wasn't really thinking when I said it, but I'm not sorry I did."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Sometimes I want everyone to know."

Her lips curved again, understanding clear in her voice. "Me, too. That sounds like a conversation we need to have soon. But perhaps it can wait for a time when we do not have a possible crime scene waiting?"

A smile of his own ghosted across his lips. "Yeah." He relaxed and hugged her to him again. She snuggled her face into his chest. "I love you, Ziver."

"I love you, too." They shared another kiss, this one more heated.

This time when they pulled apart, they turned to leave the kitchen. With his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist, they began walking toward the door. Jethro had a sudden thought.

"By the way, do we have fish?"

Ziva laughed all the way to the car.

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The alley to which Damon directed them was dark, and crowded with wood, various pieces of construction equipment, and garbage. They saw his friend Heatherton in a dumpster with its front opened flat. Gibbs told Werth to stay in the car while he and Ziva checked it out. Heatherton's throat had been slit. Definitely a crime scene.

"Jethro, how are we going to work this? Heatherton is no longer a Marine."

"See if we can get Metro PD to kick it to the FBI's violent crimes division."

"Ah. Then we will take it from them, yes?"

Gibbs smirked. "That's the idea." Ziva grinned.

Gibbs walked back to Damon while Ziva got on her phone to get the rest of the team out of bed and to get the ball rolling on the jurisdiction issue.

"You believe me now, Agent Gibbs?" Damon asked.

"What exactly was Heatherton doing for Szwed?" Gibbs asked.

"Driving a truck – like, serious driving. Across country and back in a week kind of driving. Heatherton called me tonight, wanted to get a drink. Then, it was weird. At first he wouldn't talk, and then when he started talking, he didn't make much sense. He said he'd messed up on the last job, but that he'd had to."

"Messed up how?"

"I don't know." Gibbs gave him a look that said "get real." "I don't – I swear. He wouldn't say."

Damon paused. "But he did recruit me for the next run. And, um…Szwed offered it to me."

"When?" Gibbs demanded.

"Tonight, before I came to see you." Gibbs gave him his famous stare. "Look, I knew he had something to do with this. I played dumb; like I was supposed to meet Heatherton there and was surprised he hadn't shown up. After a bit, he offered it to me, but said it's a two-man job. I told him I had someone in mind, and came to you."

"This is a murder investigation – you're not getting involved," Gibbs said forcefully.

"I am involved – and I'm the guy who'll be taking Heatherton's place behind the wheel of that truck. I'm your ticket in, Agent Gibbs, and you know it."

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After the team arrived, they set about collecting the evidence. Tony took pictures, Ziva sketched the scene and McGee was on bag and tag. Ducky & Palmer studied the body, noting their usual preliminary findings.

McGee was very quiet. After the second time that Ziva caught him staring at her with a quizzical look, she came over to him. Still looking at her sketchpad, she spoke.

"Something on your mind, McGee?"

At first, he stayed quiet. After a few minutes he asked, "I was just trying to figure out why the boss called you to pick him up instead of me."

Ah. She'd been waiting for that to come up. But she had become an expert at not telling the whole truth while avoiding outright lies whenever possible.

"He did not." McGee looked at her in confusion. "I stopped by his house. Damon was there and I drove us all here."

"Oh." McGee nodded, seemingly satisfied. Just then, Gibbs yelled his name. "Yeah, Boss?" he called back.

"Car." Gibbs walked toward the agency car with Damon in tow.

"Sure, Boss."

Ziva grinned. "Give my best to Agent Fornell, McGee."

McGee stopped and turned back to Ziva. "Fornell? Ah. Of course. We're stealing his crime scene again." He started to walk away again, then stopped a second time. "Hey, Ziva. Did you know the Boss has fish?"

For the second time at the mention of fish, Ziva burst into laughter.

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After Gibbs, McGee & Damon had picked up Fornell, they gathered with the rest of the team in the bullpen at NCIS. Turned out, Szwed had already popped up on the FBI's radar. After some discussion, Fornell said, "If we're going to figure out what Szwed's up to, we've got to stop that truck."

"Or we can put someone on it," Gibbs said, looking at Ziva.

When it became clear that Werth would be driving and Ziva riding shotgun, Tony protested, but Gibbs had made his decision. They made a plan that was as complete as it could be, given the circumstances. There was some concern that they were unable to wire Ziva & Damon from the beginning, but Gibbs knew they'd be searched and they couldn't take the risk.

Ziva and Damon went to the warehouse, with Tony & McGee in a surveillance van nearby. Gibbs and Fornell swung by Gibbs' place, changed into casual clothes and grabbed his old Challenger. They would be chasing additional leads and keeping an eye on the truck as much as possible.

Damon & Ziva talked their way onto the truck and set off. They stopped for fuel right away, and the team followed. Gibbs was able to slip Ziva a small box w/ ear buds for communicating. Soon they were all back on the road.

In the truck, Damon seemed tense. Ziva encouraged him to relax, but that didn't seem to have much effect on him.

"What are you thinking?" she finally asked.

He stayed silent for a long moment, then shrugged. "Just worried I'm going to screw this up somehow, you know? It's too important for that. And if anything happens to you…"

"Look, Damon. The last time we saw you, you were in control. You helped us." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Even after everything you have been through, you can do this. You can move forward, you can find the right path."

Silence.

"So, is Gibbs your right path?" he asked somewhat caustically.

"He is part of it," she acknowledged truthfully. "You are troubled by the fact that Gibbs and I are together. Why?"

Damon kept his eyes on the road, his face closed. He did not answer.

"Talk to me, Damon. Please."

"I thought we were friends," he said finally, quietly.

"We are."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"We have not told anyone."

"Why not?"

Ziva shrugged. "At first, it took us by surprise. We did not know where it would lead, if anywhere. And we did not want to disrupt the team, especially if it did not work out." Ziva looked out her window again and continued speaking, but more softly. "And then it became something that we wanted to protect, to keep safe."

She paused. "The longer we went on without telling the team, the harder it became to do so. I was worried about what they would say and more worried that they would feel we had betrayed their trust by not telling them."

Ziva looked back at Damon with a small smile. "But I think we may be getting closer to telling them and letting the clips fall where they may."

"Chips."

"What do chips have to do with anything?" she asked, confused. Then she rolled her eyes. "Stupid idioms," she muttered.

She looked back at Damon. "That is not the only thing bothering you about this," she said. "It is more than the fact that I did not tell you."

He was silent again for a few long minutes.

"I thought we were the same." She just looked at him quizzically, her head cocked to the side, and waited. "I thought we were both warriors and loners...but you're not alone. That changes things for me."

She reflected on that for a moment. "Do any of us really know everything there is to know about another? I am a fighter … and I am still searching for where I completely belong. I believe Jethro and I belong together, but I still feel caught between two countries, not completely at home in either one. And I am still unlearning much of what Mossad taught me, much of what my father taught me."

"You may not be Mossad any more, but you are still part of something – you are part of NCIS...and you are with Gibbs." His voice got quieter. "I'm on my own, not part of anything. I don't know who I am or where I belong. All I ever wanted to be was a Marine, then I screwed that up. Now I am nothing."

"That is not true, Damon. You are someone who has made a mistake, but still has much to offer. You will find your place, if you give it a chance to look different than the dreams you once had."

Silence.

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I do," she answered with certainty.

He finally relaxed a little and gave her a small smile of thanks. They drove on in companionable silence, focused on the job at hand once more.

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Working together, the team solved the case and arrested not only Szwed and his henchman, but also a man named Devoisier. Unbelievably, the whole thing had started with a bet that involved a cross-country race, with vehicular manslaughter along the way. Damon's friend had taken the accident victim to the hospital when the racers didn't even stop. The young woman died, and Heatherton had been killed to keep him quiet about what he knew.

Damon was headed to Ohio to tell Heatherton's wife what had happened. Before leaving, he hugged Ziva goodbye. As she hugged him back, he whispered, "Thanks. And good luck." She smiled and kissed his cheek, admonishing him to keep in touch.

After saying farewell to the others, Damon looked at Gibbs, looked at the elevator, then back at Gibbs. Jethro took the hint.

"Going for coffee."

Damon followed Gibbs into the elevator. Gibbs hit the stop button. "There something you wanted to say?"

"Yeah." Damon looked him squarely in the eye. "If you hurt her, I will kick your ass."

Gibbs gave his famous half-grin and looked at the younger man with approval. He nodded. "Fair enough. But you know you'll have to wait 'til she's had her turn, right?"

They grinned at each other, finding more common ground in understanding Ziva. Gibbs held out his left hand and Damon shook it.

True, he'd had those moments of jealousy back at the house, but there'd always been something about Werth that resonated with Gibbs. The Corp had been very important to both of them, and once a Marine, always a Marine. Too, Gibbs completely understood that desire – that _need_ – for something that was so powerful that you'd do anything to make it happen. Even make mistakes.

Gibbs hit the button to start the elevator again. "Like she said, keep in touch."

"I will." They walked out into the lobby when the doors opened. "And, Agent Gibbs? Thanks."

Gibbs just nodded, then headed out to get a coffee. And maybe a mango berry smoothie for a certain brunette.

When he placed the drink on her desk, she looked up in surprise. Without looking at her, he moved on to his desk. With her eyes on her computer, Ziva sucked on the drink happily.

Toy looked up. "Where's mine, Boss?"

Gibbs gave him a hard look. "You stop a truck tonight, DiNozzo?"

"Uh, no, Boss."

"Well, then – there you go."

After all the paperwork was through, Gibbs sent the team home. McGee dropped him off, not coming in this time. Ziva waited in her car around the corner until she saw McGee drive away. Then she pulled into Gibbs' garage, parking her car in the space he'd cleared out for her long ago. Entering the house, she hung up her backpack and locked up. She playfully peeked around the doorway into the living room.

"All clear?" she whispered theatrically.

Jethro released a short laugh. "Yeah. All clear."

She came and joined him on the couch, snuggling into him with her head on his shoulder. The last of his tension loosened its grip and he pulled her even closer, resting his head against hers. They simply held each other until Ziva broke the silence.

"Thank you for trusting me enough to put me on that truck with Damon."

"You were the best person for the job. And me trusting you has never been an issue."

That earned him a kiss.

"Still want steak for dinner?" she asked.

"Werth ate it. Besides, too tired. Let's just have something simple and turn in."

"Good idea." Ziva brushed his cheek with her lips and got up to head for the kitchen. "You relax and I will heat some soup."

With murmured thanks, Gibbs leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. Ziva stopped in the doorway, and turned back.

"Jethro?" What did Damon say to you in the elevator?"

He was not surprised that she'd caught onto the fact that Werth had wanted a moment of privacy with him.

"He said if I hurt you, he'll kick my ass."

"And what did you say to that?"

"That he'd have to get in line behind you," he answered without opening his eyes.

"True," she affirmed with a decisive nod, making him grin as she went on into the kitchen.

Not for the first time since they'd been together, a feeling of completeness snuck up on him. But this time, he gave it proper attention. Granted, seeing Damon had thrown him for a loop in more ways than one. But, it had also helped settle him in ways he hadn't expected. Maybe it was time to think more about the future than the past.


	3. Mother in law

_A/N: The reviews are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!_

Established Zibbs. Spoilers for "Mother's Day" (Season 7x16)

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Ziva pulled into the driveway of Gibbs' house. Even after months of sharing it, the house still felt like his. She did not pull into the garage as usual, as she wasn't sure how long she would be staying. She sat in silence looking at the house for a while before getting out. She was tense, confused and hurt. She needed to talk to Jethro, but didn't know if she had it in her to make that happen.

She got out of the car and walked into the house, putting her backpack by the door. Gibbs was sitting on the couch looking through pictures in a small box. Without looking at him, Ziva walked into the kitchen silently. She brought them both back a beer, handing him his before joining him on the couch, all without saying a word. She tucked one leg beneath her and took a long swig from her bottle. She noticed the small box was now tucked under the coffee table, almost out of sight.

Gibbs leaned back, taking a drink from his own beer as he stared off into space. She could feel the emotional distance between them and was suddenly in the mood to push that. Hard.

"I would like to know why you did not tell me what you were planning to do today."

He did not look at her, nor did he speak. They both knew she was referring to his getting Shannon's mother, Joann, to confess to murder without reading her her rights and without her lawyer – _that_ lawyer - present. There was no way the confession would stick.

She let him stew for a minute, then said, "I would like an answer, Jethro."

He raised his beer to his lips and took a long drink. Just when she thought he wasn't going to speak, he said, "Wasn't sure you'd understand." He paused. "And I didn't want you in the middle of it."

A flash of hurt stabbed through her. She couldn't stop herself from stiffening in response. He noticed and suddenly realized how she might have taken his words.

He put his hand on her arm as she started to rise from the couch. He finally looked her in the eyes. "I mean, if it came back on me, I didn't want you caught up in that."

He looked away again, and his voice got quieter. "And didn't want to hurt you with all these…memories."

Ziva stared at his profile for a moment, then leaned forward to place her beer on the low table in front of them. She placed her hand on his where it still rested on her arm.

"It does not hurt me to hear Shannon's name or to hear of your lives together. I know you loved her, Jethro, and somehow, it makes me love you more, knowing that you did."

She paused, gathering her courage.

"But it does hurt me when you shut me out and when you hide from me." Her gaze flicked to the small box that was now sitting under the table. "Because that makes me feel as if I do not matter, as if you do not trust me with what is most important to you…" Her gaze came back to his. "As if I am…temporary."

With a squeeze of his hand, she stood up. "You are right. I do not completely understand what you did, though I am willing to try if you give me the chance. And I probably understand more than you think, including the fact that it is not only my pain that you are hoping to avoid. But I am not willing to stay in a relationship with someone who keeps important parts of himself from me. I deserve more than that. And so do you."

With that, Ziva walked away and let herself out the front door, grabbing her backpack as she went. She got into her car, blinking back the tears that threatened. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel for a moment, fighting the urge to run back into the house and just tell him to forget what she said, that it was all right.

The fact was that it wasn't all right. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, but it was the most obvious. She had her own walls, too, but she'd been really trying to keep him on the inside of those walls, or at least open a door. She needed the same from him. She could let this go – again – but that wouldn't stop it from happening next time, and there would most certainly be a next time. She had some thinking to do – and maybe he did, too.

That gave her the resolution to start the engine and pull out of the drive. She wasn't sure where she was headed, but she knew she needed to get away from here for a while.

The sound of her car driving away snapped Jethro out of the paralysis that had gripped him since she'd stood up from the couch. He'd heard every word she'd said, but had been unable to respond. He thought back over her words. He still felt it was more complicated than she'd allowed. He knew he was walking a fine line with Joann and he didn't want Ziva or any of the rest of his team caught in the backlash of that, if there was any. He couldn't help his desire to protect her from that, and from any pain she might feel at hearing more about his life with his first wife.

But, if he was honest, he was also protecting himself, wasn't he? Especially in not talking about Shannon and Kelly. As though not talking about them meant that he didn't think about them or that the pain had dissolved. Maybe he was so focused on trying to insulate himself from his own pain that he was blind to the pain he was causing Ziva – the very pain he'd wanted to spare her.

And maybe, just maybe, he was keeping Ziva at a distance in some ways to protect himself against feeling a loss like that again. He rubbed a hand over his face. Like it already wasn't going to kill him if something happened to her.

He shook his head. Just last week he'd thought maybe it was time to think about the future. These last couple of days had been about nothing but the past.

With sudden clarity, the one thing he knew for certain is that he didn't want to lose Ziva – even if it meant cracking the seal on memories and emotions he'd locked away long ago.

He put his unfinished beer on the table, stood up and strode to the door with purpose. Just as his hand touched the knob, he stopped. He went back and scooped up the picture box from under the table. No time like the present to start as he meant to go on. Or try to, anyway.

As he pulled his truck out of his drive, he realized he didn't know where she'd gone. He pulled over and tried calling her, but it went straight to voice mail. No surprise there.

"Come on, Ziver. Where are you?" he wondered aloud.

He allowed himself to get centered for a minute, trying to think like her. He discarded thoughts of the apartment she still kept for appearances; it just didn't feel like she'd go there. He forced his anxiety down, trying to listen to his gut. After a few minutes, he had it. As he headed there, he prayed for the first time in a long time that he was right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ziva pulled into the parking lot of the botanical garden that was nestled like an oasis in the midst of a residential area. She grabbed the blanket she kept in the back of the car and headed toward a large oak tree that stood at the top of a gentle hill.

She loved to come here when she needed to think. She had discovered it soon after moving here, on one of her jaunts to learn the area. At first she had done so out of habit; after all, knowing your surroundings could mean the difference between life and death. But, even after she had learned the lay of the land, she kept exploring for unexpected surprises like this garden.

The garden was well-tended and peaceful, and the sculptures scattered around varied from the abstract to the whimsical to the sweet. There was a pond that was home to several ducks and a couple of swans, but Ziva's favorite place was up on the hill overlooking a stream that fed from the pond. A plank swing had been tied to a sturdy branch of the oak tree long ago; sometimes she swung and felt a bit like a little girl again. But today she was not in the mood for that.

She spread her blanket under the tree and sat on it. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, as though trying to comfort herself. She watched the water bounce happily over the rocks in the stream and noticed the lights of DC that were beginning to shine in the distance.

Inevitably her mind replayed the scene in Jethro's house. She felt a little afraid that she had pushed him too far. About the only thing she was sure of in her life these days was that she loved him and didn't want to lose him. Still, when he withheld those parts of himself from her, it felt like he wasn't really hers anyway.

She rested her forehead on her knees and finally let the tears fall soundlessly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jethro pulled his truck up right beside her car in an otherwise empty parking lot, relieved beyond words that he'd found her. Taking the box of pictures, he got out of the truck. He headed toward the tree, knowing that to be her favorite spot. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful surroundings.

As he came near the blanket on which she sat, her head raised and she looked unerringly toward him. Surprise warred with hope in her eyes, as her lips formed his name.

He stopped near her and smiled softly. "Got room for a stubborn old man?"

"That would depend on the man."

"That'd be me."

She looked up at him considering, then scooted over. She gestured with her head for him to sit beside her.

That half-grin she loved popped out as he sat, bringing the hint of a smile to her lips. Putting the box down at his side, he turned to her. She started to wipe the tears from her face, but he beat her to it, smoothing his thumb gently over her cheeks.

"I'm sorry I made you cry," he said quietly.

"Apologies are a sign of weakness," she pointed out reflexively.

"Not between friends." With a finger under her chin, he raised her eyes to his. "And not between us."

The depth of feeling in his voice made her eyes swim again. She looked at him for a long moment, then launched herself into his arms. "I am sorry, too," she whispered.

He held her tightly against him, more thankful than he'd been in a lifetime.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." He pulled back to look at her again, cupping her face in his hand. "You were right. About everything."

After a moment, he continued. "I don't want to lose you. I haven't been good about showing you that, but I'd like to try, if you'll give me the chance."

She searched his eyes and was amazed at the emotion revealed there. Her hand raised to his face, her fingers lightly tracing as if to memorize this moment. Could it really be this simple? Could she just say yes and get the life she wanted with him? Yes, she realized – starting from here actually was just that simple. Getting the life she wanted, well, that would take effort from both of them over time.

Letting her love show clearly in her eyes, she said, "The one thing I am sure of in my life is that I want to be with you. I will give you that chance – if you will give the same to me."

His "thank God" was murmured against her lips as kissed her deeply. When they finally came up for air, she snuggled her face into his neck, breathing him in.

"I love you, Jethro."

"I love you, too, Ziver."

He just held her for a while, absorbing the feel of her against him. But she deserved to hear more from him and at last he spoke.

"There was a time when Joann was like a mother to me. I couldn't let her go to jail." Pause. "But I should have talked to you about it first."

"I understand wanting to take justice into one's own hands. I have done it myself." For a moment in her mind she was back in Israel, hunting the terrorists responsible for her sister Tali's death. "And I can understand not wanting her to go to jail, both for her and as a way of honoring Shannon."

She pulled away from his chest. "The part I am struggling with is that we – you – are in a position now where we are sworn to uphold the law. And you disregarded that."

He was silent for a while. "You're right." More silence. "Guess it felt more like justice to see her walk away…but that doesn't make it right. Just makes it what I can live with."

She reflected on that, staring off into the distance. In her mind, being an officer of the law changed things, held you to a higher standard than if you were not in such a position. But…having lived in the gray areas for so long in her old life, was she now trying to classify everything into black or white, good or bad, right or wrong? Few things were that simple - and no one was perfect. She still didn't know how you could do something in one case and not in another, but she did understand that sometimes the options in front of you were all less than desirable. And in those cases, you decided what you could live with and moved forward. She had been there herself.

"All right."

His eyes questioned her. "All right?"

She laid her head back onto his chest and nodded. "All right."

He released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He pressed a kiss to her hair and propped his chin on the top of her head.

"One last thing about that…" Ziva drawled, tipping her head back to look at his face with a mock frown. "Did you have to ask _that_ lawyer to help her?"

He grinned. "Only one I knew that hadn't represented one of my ex-wives."

Ziva laughed and shook her head.

Gibbs reached beside him and picked up the small metal box holding the pictures he'd been looking at earlier. Silently he placed it in her hands. She looked up at him.

"Jethro?"

He kept his gaze on hers. "You matter to me. I trust you, even with the important things. And you are definitely not temporary."

Looking into his eyes, Ziva saw everything she'd hoped to find and more. He continued, "I can't promise I won't screw up again, but I can promise to try not to."

Cradling the box against her belly, she pulled him down for a kiss that was as tender as it was deep. After they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his chin. "Thank you."

He pressed a kiss to her brow in acknowledgment.

Turning her attention to the box, she opened it and pulled out the first picture. There was just enough light still to see clearly. A young Jethro grinned for the camera, his arm around the shoulders of a smiling Shannon. They were clearly at some kind of picnic.

"Shannon's mom was always throwing picnics and having people over. That was the first family picnic after we got engaged."

Ziva's fingers gently traced over the photo. "You look so happy."

"I was. We were."

She tucked that one back in the box and pulled out the next one. This showed Jethro and Shannon on their wedding day, dancing alone in the middle of a large room. A crowd of people stood around smiling. Jethro looked handsome in his dress blues and Shannon was simply lovely. She spotted Jethro's father wearing a proud grin, and Shannon's mother dabbing happy tears.

"You look quite comfortable dancing," Ziva observed in some surprise.

"Shannon made me practice. A lot." He grinned, thinking back at the memory. "Actually, didn't mind as much as I thought I would."

He looked down at her bent head. "We could go dancing," he suggested, thinking of all the times he'd caught her moving to music when she thought no one was looking.

Her eyes flew to his. A sweet smile curved her lips as she grabbed her bottom lip with her teeth. "I would like that," she whispered, clearly pleased.

They continued to look at pictures, Jethro providing explanations as needed. Then Ziva pulled out one of Shannon holding an infant in front of what was obviously base housing.

"The day we brought Kelly home from the hospital." He smiled, remembering. "I was worried I wouldn't be there when she had the baby, that I'd be deployed. But it worked out."

"What was it like?"

"What?"

"Kelly's birth."

He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "Well, it was a lot easier on me than it was on Shannon, though it was pretty nerve-wracking for me. But it was incredible."

Ziva looked down at the photo for long moments. "Do you ever think about having more children?" she asked quietly.

"Never used to." Pause. "But that's changing." He waited a breath. "You think about having kids?"

She lifted her face to look at him with a smile that was almost shy.

"I never used to. But that is changing."

Identical grins slowly lit up their faces and he couldn't stop himself from kissing her again. She blindly placed the box beside them and moved to straddle him without breaking their kiss. In those moments, the past was forgotten and the rest of the world fell away.

"Ziver?" he murmured against her skin, moving down to her neck.

"Ummmm…?" She tilted her head to give him better access.

"Think we could continue this at home?"

"Looking at pictures?" she teased.

"Uh-huh…after."

"After what?"

"After more of this." He took her mouth again. They were both breathing heavily when he lifted his head, and her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

"Oh, yes…definitely more of that first," she breathed.

Her laughter at his "Oo-rah!" was smothered by another kiss that threatened to devour her – until she gave back as good as he gave.

Somehow they managed to pick up her blanket and his box of memories without completely letting go of each other, and made it down the hill hand in hand. He walked her to her car and suddenly found himself pressed against the side of his truck, being kissed brainless.

"First one home gets to be on top," she challenged with a sexy glint in her eye. And, with a grin, she was in her car and peeling away before he could move.

He laughed and shook his head as he climbed into his truck to give chase. He headed for a shortcut he knew, but it didn't really matter to him who got home first. He was a winner either way.


End file.
